Chapter 10 #3
There wasn’t any annoyance in his tone when he asked it. It was a genuine question, inviting inquiry. I shifted in my spot. The hair on his arm tickled me. He didn’t pull away, though. “I want you to teach me,” I said. “Show me how you…play.”
He pressed his lips together. “No.”
No? Just…no? I blinked. “Why not?”
He exhaled a quick, tight sigh. “Look at me. I’m pushing fifty. I work twenty-four-hour shifts, multiple days a week. I don’t have time to teach a new Seeker. There are plenty other dominants who would be more than willing to train you. Carver, for example. You met him.”
“I met him,” I agreed. “I like him. I want you.”
His mouth thinned. “Why?”
I hesitated. And then…screw it. The truth spilled out of me.
“I believe in the old Greek gods. I mean…as much as anyone believes in anything, right? My favorite is the goddess of hunt, Artemis. Only instead of protecting me, she chases me. She’s got her bow and her arrow and her hound dogs and she’s constantly at my heels, pushing me to be better.
A better performer. A better daughter. A better sister.
A better friend. A better me. I like to run.
I like the fight. And I thrive off of that energy.
But when you speak it’s like…there’s a part of my brain that says, Okay.
It’s safe here. You can stop running now. ”
He listened as I spoke, as though he was really considering my words. But then he shook his head. “Your brain went quiet around me because you had a concussion, Ruby.”
“Maybe. Or maybe it’s fate.” You can’t run from fate, moon boy. I persisted, “I’m a quick learner.”
“I don’t have the time. Or the patience.”
“What do you have?”
Without missing a beat, he answered, “Clementines.”
I nodded to his diminishing fruit. “May I?”
He peeled off a slice. When he held it out to me, however, I didn’t take it.
Instead, I pulled my hair away from my face and lowered myself to my knees in front of him.
I was level with his groin here and the opportunities were…
endless. I tilted my chin up, opened my mouth, and extended my tongue. An open invitation.
See? I wanted to say. I could be a good girl. I was trainable.
There was nothing rushed about Phantom. He was careful and deliberate with every move.
I remained on my knees, tongue out, until he made a decision.
He held the slice to my lips, feeding me.
I opened wider as his large fingers crowded my mouth.
His hands smelled like sharp, tangy citrus as he pushed the slice inside.
I closed my lips around his fingers and sucked the juice from them before he retracted them.
Finally, I bit into the clementine and it burst in my cheek.
It was the sweetest thing I’d ever tasted.
Phantom watched me chew, and some of the creases left his forehead.
It seemed to satisfy something within him.
His fingers glistened with my saliva, and he made no move to wipe me off of his skin.
His thumb very gently brushed over my bottom lip.
Just that touch alone made my nipples go tight underneath my dress.
His voice fell an octave when he said, “Now be a good girl and forget you met me.”
Of course, there was no way I was doing that.
Phantom left me to let myself out. The lobby was empty when I exited; even the cute blonde was gone.
It was only me and the doorman now—the man in leather—who was still kneeling patiently and silently by the coat closet.
When he saw me, he quickly rose to his feet.
He opened the closet, pulled my coat out, and draped it over his arm for presentation.
I gasped dramatically. “Oh, what good service! You remembered me!” I slid my fingers through the thick fake fur of my coat, petting it. “You took such good care of it. It’s just so…well hung.”
The poor doorman wouldn’t look me in the eyes. He was nearly shivering from the compliment.
I really, really liked this place.
I extended my arms. “You can put it on.” He obeyed and slid the coat over my shoulders. “Can I tip you?” I asked, reaching into my pocket.
He shook his head, eyes cast down again.
“Well, maybe you can do a favor for me, then. Can you turn around?”
He did. I found crumpled receipt in my jacket pocket. There was a pen on the foyer table. I put the receipt on the doorman’s back and used him like furniture. I wrote my number down and then held it out for him.
“Please give this to Phantom. And let him know to text me if he ever decides to remove the stick from his ass.”
The doorman’s blue eyes went wide underneath his mask. I guessed most people didn’t dare to talk disparagingly of the club owner here. But he took the piece of paper, folding it carefully.
I gave him a smile. “Thank you, sweet boy.”
I swear, even the mask blushed.
I left the Seekers Club and was met with the cool, dark New York City night. When the door closed shut behind me, I felt like I’d exited the portal to a fantasy realm and reentered the real world. And only one thought lingered in my mind.
How the hell do I get back?